Branded
by Whispered Melodies
Summary: The day Draco was branded was the most difficult day of his life. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? Did he think that he made the right choice? Read and find out. ONESHOT


**Branded**

'This is it Draco. Serve our Lord as best of your ability.' Lucius whispered to his son.

Draco only nodded. He was waiting outside of the Throne Room in Riddle Manor which was under the Fidelius Charm, which Voldemort was the Secret Keeper. He was only minutes away from fully entering the Dark Lord's service. He was going to be branded with the Dark Mark. A skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. That simple, slightly morbid, image struck fear into the heart of the Wizarding World. The simple acts of branding on your forearm showed that you were completely loyal and possibly over the years make it into Lord Voldemort's Inner Circle. His own father was in the Inner Circle, as were Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange. His Aunt and Uncle were slightly mad, but it was worth it for they had suffered for the Dark Lord.

_But was it really?_

He thought back. He would be part of the Malfoy Legacy. Supporting the Last Heir of Slytherin himself. He thought back to Potter and his friends. They were stupid and obnoxious, but at the same tme he envied them.

The Weasel. He had no money and no pride. His whole family were blood traitors. But he had no fear of the Dark Lord. He wasn't afraid of failing his family. He wasn't afraid of failing the Dark Lord, which would end up him dying or being tortured. He wasn't afraid of losing his life. Ron had been one of those typical Gryffindors. Prideful and arrogant. Gryffindor was the most biased out of all the houses. They all believed that they were the best and that Slytherins were evil. But that wasn't always true. One of Voldemort's Inner Circle members, Peter Pettigrew was a Gryffindor and yet he was more cowardly than anything.

'Draco Malfoy!' a voice echoed. Bellatrix came out of the Throne Room. 'Are you ready to pledge yourself to the Dark Lord? Or are you scared?'

Draco followed her back and as the doors slammed shut he got one last view of his parents staring sadly at him.

'I remember when I first pledged my services to the Dark Lord. It was the most proud moment of my life. I was ready to b his most loyal servant.' Bellatrix reminisced.

They knelt before the empty throne when Lord Voldemort materialized. He was tall and in dark robes. From behind he only looked like a normal-ish wizard. But his face was snakelike. Slits for nostrils and crimson, blood-red eyes.

'_Kneel.'_he said in an unnaturally high voice.

'Do you promise to...' Bellatrix began, but Draco wasn't paying attention. His thoughts had wandered elsewhere.

He thought of the mudblood. She wasn't _bad looking,_per se, but it was her attitude that put everyone off. She believed that she knew more than anyone, even those that had grown up in the Wizard World. Draco envied her as well. She didn't grow up listening to horrible tales of Dark Wizards. She didn't grow up listening to taunts of Mini Death Eater and Snake etc... Of course some of it was true but that didn't mean he liked it or that it hurt less. She didn't grow up pressured into making bad choices. She didn't grow up with a father that cared more about his status that his son. She didn't know what that was like.

Draco felt himself nodding to what his aunt was saying.

'_Very well. Begin.'_Lord Voldemort ordered.

He felt someone grasp his arm, but he paid it no heed.

He thought about Potter. Gryffindor's Golden Boy. Boy-who lived. He had all the fame and all the good breaks. He didn't have anyone to pressure him into joining the Dark Lord. He had friend to support him. That's what Draco wanted. He wanted real friends. Crabbe and Goyle were bodyguards. His father had requested them. But he had few real friends. Nott and Zabini were okay but they only were friends because of his father. Parkinson was a downright annoyance. She followed him everywhere. Potter, Potter had real friends that would stay with him no matter what, not just because of his father.

He realized that he was only doing this because his father had wanted him to. His father was willing to sacrifice his son, so that the Dark Lord would possibly give him a higher status and more power. He realized that this wasn't acting like a true pureblood. Purebloods were meant to stand tall, and not listen to anyone. By pledging their services to the Dark Lord, they were becoming the servants. They were becoming like muggles. All the purebloods that refused to obey Voldemort, they weren't the blood traitors. The purebloods that did pledge and follow You-Know -Who were the blood traitors because they were disobeying everything that went with being a pureblood.

Just as he made that epiphany he felt a scalding pain in his arm. It was so painful he doubled over, all thoughts coming to a stop. He looked at his arm in horror. On his arm was a tattoo of a skull with a snake out of his mouth.

He wanted to scream out loud that he didn't want it. That he didn't want to be part of anything that the Dark Lord was involved in. But it was too late. He was going to be forced to obey whatever Voldemort ordered, otherwise be killed. All his memories of him being free rushed by in his head. He felt dizzy. He had no more freedom, no more choices. Voldemort would control him like a puppet, just like all his other Death Eaters. Bellatrix had said that it was the most proud day of her life. But for Draco, it was his worst. If he was caught he would be sentenced to Azkaban. If he disobeyed he would be murdered. He had no choice. He should have listened to Potter. He may have been arrogant and full of himself, but at least he was free. Draco never should have listened to his father. Nothing as worth giving up his freedom.

But he realized the truth too late. He was _branded_


End file.
